


Fuck You, Tommy Dorsey

by froyobro



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Some Humor, hurt comfort, short and sweet, wholesome TM ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 19:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14837589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froyobro/pseuds/froyobro
Summary: It’s the song that keeps on singing.





	Fuck You, Tommy Dorsey

**Author's Note:**

> This only really makes sense if you listen to “I Can Dream, Can’t I?” by tommy dorsey.  
> Honestly i was just crying about it to my friend and wanted to explain why so i was going to briefly explain how it could relate to Stucky and. and it got away from me. comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated!

I’ll set the scene: Steve and Bucky go on a double date with two swell dames, right? and at one point Steve’s date ditches him so he’s sitting at the bar absently swirling his glass of watered down whiskey and looking longingly at Bucky—twirling the girl around and laughing, her dress swishing like it had a mind of its own.

The song comes on and Bucky slow dances with the gal, grins over her shoulder at Steve; but Steve turns abruptly, suspiciously wiping at his eyes (Bucky worries for a sec it’s from allergies—kid probably didnt take his meds again, he’s gonna wring his neck after this date—)

But. Could Steve—macho man himself (he aint really macho, he just has to prove himself to the world)—be crying? Why?

Then Bucky’s date presses a kiss to his neck and he represses a shudder. Dottie’s swell, but her lipstick sticks and he can feel it on his skin as she brings her lips closer to his ear. “after this, you wanna blow this Popsicle stand?” He can feel her grin (and damn her lipstick). Bucky swallows and continues to sway.

Man, Dottie’s so short. Like Stevie. Ha. It’s a funny thought—-him dancing with Rogers. It gives him a funny feeling.

And this damned Tommy Dorsey number is making his heart ache. Damn. He needs a smoke.

“I’m gonna step out for a cig, Dot,” he kisses her on the cheek and lets his arms fall from her slim waist. “Be back in a jif.”

She smiles demurely, “I’ll be right here, slick.”

  
Bucky straightens his tie; it was getting too tight around his neck. He sees steve leaning against the wall, looking as fucking miserable as ever.

  
“Hey punk.”

  
Steve instantly shoots up, bringing back up the emotional wall. “Didn’t expect to see your ugly mug out here.” He swipes at his nose off-handedly. “Get back in there with your dame, Barnes.”

  
“What, tryna get rid of me?” Buck was joking but there was a hint of hurt in his voice.

  
And to both of their surprise, Steve spits out, “yes.”

Bucky swallows. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  
“It means go back in there and be with your girl. There’ll be another one tomorrow, but don’t mean you don’t gotta treat her to a good time.”

  
“Hey, why you always gotta be a contrary son of a bitch? I don’t even—“

  
Steve looks out into the street, pointedly avoiding his best friend’s gaze. “Buck. Leave me alone.”

  
Bucky pushes his shoulder. “Not ‘til you tell me what’s wrong.”

  
Steve stands up straighter, tries to make himself even a little taller. He pushes bucky’s chest with both of those bruised and battered artist’s hands. “ _IM_ WRONG. So stop hangin’ round me.”

  
Then steve swung.

  
“WHAT IN THE HELL STEVE?!”

  
“Your FACE is PISSING ME OFF!”

  
Bucky ducks and tries to grab Steve’s hands, but the little guy is a damned fucking ferret. “I didn’t do nothin so knock it off!” But Steve keeps pushing and shoving and scratching and punching—or.  
trying to punch.

  
Bucky’s taught him a hundred times if he taught him once how to give a good one, but Steve still fights losy. Bucky doesn’t have it in him to care because even now, when Steve’s foaming at the mouth, buck loves him—

  
What?

  
Bucky Barnes freezes in place long enough for Steve to really knock him. Immediately, his nose starts bleeding and Steve steps back in shock.

  
“Oh shit. Buck, im so—“

  
Bucky gets off his ass and wipes the dirt off his pants, then presses his hand to his nose to stop the bleeding (as much as he can).

“Go inside and tell Dot to find someone else to walk her home. Im leavin’.”

“Buck—“ but he was already down the block.

  
What really bothered Steve, was that Bucky didnt even seem mad, he just seemed shocked. Like he just realized something. Maybe he realized that Steve really was a lousy friend. Maybe it clicked that Steve didn’t love him like a brother. 

He feels sick.

Steve gets home, slams the door loudly, throws the keys on the table, and trudges to the bathroom where Buck is dabbing at his face.

“Worried about the money-maker?” Steve tries to diffuse the tension between the two of them. Fights never last long because of this precise tactic. Tried and true, and all that.

Bucky just grunts and barely glances at steve in the mirror before looking down at his hands in the sink.

  
“Look—“

  
“Save it, stevie.” 

“But—it was just that damn song, I don’t know what got into me.”

  
Buck chuckles and says to himself, “Me neither.” He takes a deep breath. “Steve—“

  
The blond looks up, regret and concern in his eyes. In his mind he whispers, “You ruined it now Rogers, the only good thing since your Ma and you threw it away with your big mouth.”

  
But Bucky didn’t continue what he was about to say. He didn’t know how. So Steve just swallows and gets some toilet paper, dabbing at the blood under his chin. None too gently, either. “Look up, punk,” Steve mutters so he can rub at the scruff.

  
He can see, and, more importantly, feel Bucky swallow.

  
“Now let me say my peace while I got you here becuase for once you havent let me run my mouth to get a word in edgewise.” bucky grunts, but stays looking up as Steve wipes at the blood—wait, lipstick?—on his neck. “First, your girls are getting a little less subtle. What, did she take her lipstick and dig it into the side of your neck, mark you so all of Brooklyn knows you gotta gal?”

  
“She’s not my gal, it was the second date,” Bucky mutters petulantly. He’s about to move his head down, instinctively shove Steve’s shoulder, but Steve tuts and takes his chin in his hand, lowering Bucky’s head but not letting him snap.

“I’m not finished.” He tries to hide the grin at Bucky’s ticked-off expression. His expression grows somber. “I’m real sorry for throwin hands atcha. I—“ he laughs in disbelief “—I cant believe I landed one on ya for once!”

  
Bucky snorts but can’t say anything—doesn’t really want to—with Steve’s hands still on his face. Did Steve notice he was stroking his cheeks with his thumbs? Bucky loved the scratch on his stubble.

  
“I. You just. You’re a great guy, Buck.” Steve swallows and lowers his hands to Bucky’s chest, smoothing down the starch shirt and picking at the flecks of blood absentmindedly. “Look. There—there’s something wrong with me. And I cant keep...stuffing it down.”  
Bucky wraps his fingers around Steve’s slender wrists when Steve makes a move to pull away. The air becomes charged.

  
“Buck, I—“

  
But the brunet leans down and presses his lips against Steve’s, lighter and more delicate than any of the dames hes kissed before. And Steve, his lips are chapped to hell. Split lips from countless fights, and he picks at them constantly, and Bucky usually tells him to knock that off, but kissing him—he loves them so damn much. 

  
Steve lets out an involuntary sigh and leans up, pressing into it more forcefully. And how damn in character is that of Steve. Bucky cant help but smile.

Steve leans slowly away and buries his head in Bucky’s chest.

Buck strokes his hair, an unspeakable weight off his shoulders. Hell, he didn't know that weight was there in the first place.

“Did you think that’s what was wrong with you? You wantin’ to kiss me?”

“Oh I know there’s something wrong with that. Who would ever be attracted to a mook like you?”

And Buck picks him up and throws him on the bed, the two cracking up.

When it’s midnight and Steve’s pressing light kisses to Bucky’s chest, he feels that same chest stutter.

“Buck what’s—wait why are you crying?”

Bucky just turns his head but Steve grabs his chin and turns it back to him. “You dont want this. I should have known—“

“No Steve, damnit!” More tears stream down even though Buck wipes them out of the way as soon as they fall.

“I...I’m shipping off to basic tomorrow. G—gonna go to war at some point.”

Steve’s breath is stolen, like someone yanked the rug out from under him or he got punched straight through the heart.

Steve says “And you were gonna leave in the middle of the night without tellin’ me—before all this happened.” Bucky nods slowly, petting Steve’s hair gently. He laughs brokenly. “Well, of course the world would never let us get something out of this damned life, but. We can dream, can’t we?”

  
“Yeah, Stevie. Let’s dream.”

  
So they stay up all night and talk about the future they’ll never get.

++++++

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are cooking kielbasa and rice pilaf in the kitchen while dancing to “Solid Gold Oldies,” or, as Tony likes to call them, “wilting boners.”

  
“Y’know, cuz they kill the mood. Always. No matter what song.”

  
Bucky was about to say something lewd— “Actually, Steve and I—“

  
but Steve pushed him out of the door and into the wall (harsh enough to crack drywall).

  
So they’re cooking, but then Steve’s hips are swaying and Bucky whoops and hollers. “Didn’t know you knew how to use those things!” Bucky said, referring to his hips. Maybe.

  
Steve immediately stops and grunts. “I don’t.”

  
But Bucky doesn’t let up. Instead he takes Steve into his arms and whooshes him throughout the kitchen. Steve’s feet didn’t touch the ground at one point and they’re laughing so hard, and then they smell the rice pilaf sticking to the bottom of the pan.

Bucky turns off the stove with one hand and steve in his other arm, before returning to whatever this was (because it certainly wasn’t dancing).

  
And then “I can dream, Can’t I” come on the radio and the two freeze up.

  
Bucky’s face becomes cold and harsh and he stalks towards the radio.

  
When the metal fist reduces the music player to shards, they both breathe a sigh of relief.

  
Then Bucky flings himself back towards Steve with catlike dexterity and they continue to laugh and sway and kiss.

  
Fuck Tommy Dorsey, who needs a damn dream?


End file.
